A Knight to Remember (Or Forget)

Previously

…Aurelia, reading my thoughts with unnerving accuracy, squeezed my arm. "Don't worry, Sir Reginald," she whispered, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I have a proposition for you. And I suspect it involves less clanking and more laughter." My armor, for the first time, felt not like a burden, but like a costume. A very heavy, very awkward costume that had, against all odds, led me to a princess who appreciated my particular brand of heroism, and to a path far more suited to my talents. The adventures, I suspected, were only just beginning. And they would, I was quite certain, be hilarious. Even if I did, inevitably, trip over my own greaves on the way to the stage.